I also told Aunt Belle to see about relining my mink cape and muff.
Then he will return to the Great Lake and trap the marten and the mink.
Mink is a dead shot, and probably wire-edged with whisky and expecting me.
But when, a few hours later, he heard that Mink had disappeared he was indignant.
Mink was not in sight, but the barkeeper stood rigidly on duty.
Mink arose, ...